


To Catch a Careful Devil

by daggerisms



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Crimes & Criminals, M/M, Murder, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 09:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16573802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggerisms/pseuds/daggerisms
Summary: A long-unsolved series of gruesome murders. An unexpected invitation to a prison far away from civilization. A request to suspend disbelief and venture into the unknown. A detective, an inmate, and a gradual acceptance to unlearn and unsee.





	To Catch a Careful Devil

{Mid-Investigation, on an unremarkable evening...}

* * *

 

_“Chief! Chief Shim!” The young, newly graduated rookie officer runs through the chaos that is the police station, trying and failing to not bump his superiors. They glare and call out, but he is on a mission, and their coffees and late-night breakfasts matter little to him. “Move, move, move, move, move! We have a break, people, a break!”_

_“Rookie want a cookie?” someone teases, laughter breaking out around the connecting rooms and cubicles._

_“A break in what, your peanut head?” another officers chortles, slapping hands with his partner as they gear up for patrol._

_The young man is undeterred, skirting a desk corner and narrowly missing the delicate statue its owner ducks over in fear. “A break in the case!”_

_“What case, dude? We have, like, thousands!”_

_“THE case!”_

_“Not an answer!”_

_A sleepy officer jerks awake, dropping the contents of his own water jug onto the carpet. Murmuring curses, he throws the rookie a dark look. “The fuck, rookie? You going on about that goddamn Bucheon case again? You’re not even assigned—”_

_“WHERE IS THE CHIEF’S OFFICE?!” the rookie interrupts, yelling way too loud for anyone in a police station on an overnight dog watch. His radio hangs precariously off his shoulder, his clothes are disheveled, and his hair is damp from the rainy weather outside. “This is important, helliciously important, and in my current state I don’t remember where the frick-fracking hell his office is!”_

_Wanting to just shut him up and get him away from people working real cases with real victims, someone jabs a finger in a direction, and he is off, yelling for Shim again and disturbing the rest of the detectives pouring over reports and statements. “Sir?! Chief Shim?! ¿DÓNDE ESTA EL JEFE—?”_

_Said chief cautiously sets his coffee mug down and prepares for the onslaught as the rookie bursts into his office and falls right into a chair, his hand coming down on top of the case Shim has put his heart and energy into for the last 5 hours. “Yes?”_

_“Sir…wait…hang on…give me…a second…” He grips the edge of the polished oak desk, gasping. “On…routine call…checking…businesses…when…call…”_

_Shim narrows his eyes as he reads the badge number and looks over the officer. Fresh out of the academy, no doubt, with that clean of a haircut and those pressed clothes. “Tell me, rookie. Aren’t you supposed to be out on patrol with your FTO right now? Who cleared this?” He wrenches back when the young officer eagerly shakes the case file he came with, worried about his possessions. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!”_

_“Sir…sir…” The panting now is not from exertion, but from uncontained excitement. There is a gleam in his eyes the detective remembers from his own early years on the force. (A whopping 12 years ago, sure, he’s no old barmy badger but being in law enforcement seriously ages an individual. Never mind being ridiculed for rising through the ranks and earning the spot he has now at a young age.) “It IS the Bucheon murders. Okay, so I know only privileged officers are to take a look at the files, I’m aware, broke a couple rules and policies doing that—”_

_“No shit,” Shim mumbles._

_“—but hear me out, we are approaching everything the wrong way. It’s going to sound crazy, and I know because I rehearsed this in front of a mirror, I’m going to sound like I’m out of my fucking mind and I am absolutely prepared to receive a reprimand for this, but…” Kim leans in conspiratorially, glancing over his shoulder. It comes out in a whisper._

_“I’m pretty sure it’s vampires.”_

_Silence and a leveled stare. “Get out of my office.”_

_“No, no, wait wait wait, hang on!” Anxiously, he takes one folder out of the disorganized mess in his arms and lays it over the desk. “Think about it, sir. Seven bodies found all throughout the countryside, with five more in the city. None of them related, none of them found in a similar area, none of the injuries on their bodies the same, except…” He leans in again, Shim moving back with the movement. “Every single victim had been drained of blood. The supposed killing blows are all post-mortum. There is no way in hell an animal can do that, even though the news is reporting it as some kind of weird animal attack. And in fact, every time vampire attacks pop up in lore—”_

_Shim rubs his temples, closing his eyes. “Rookie. Rookie. Stop.”_

_“I…sir?”_

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Kim, sir. Kim Jongin.”_

_“Jongin, just…” He exhales slowly. “I appreciate your genuine interest in this case, and it’s nice to see someone thinking outside the box to help solve a mystery, but this is way out of your scope. Though it may seem unlikely now, I know the detectives in Homicide will have a more accurate list of suspects ready for us to comb through and find our guy.”_

_Kim frowns. “But chief…”_

_“Get back on patrol before your FTO comes in here raging.” He motions to the door; despite his continued protests, Kim shuffles out, the file he complied laying forgotten on the desk._

_Shim stares at it for a long minute before reaching for a deep black quill by his computer, an oddity among the pens and highlighters. Its sharp end is enough to slide open a tiny cut at the edge of his finger. A drop of blood beads out, and he presses the quill into it before reaching for a special pad with his other hand. It initially took him a while to learn how to write with such an old-fashioned instrument, but now he has the hang of it._

_The sentence is vague. Brief._

_**We have an issue. A rookie connected the dots.** _

_For a moment, the words stay there, shiny and carmine red. Then, as if the writing pad is a sponge, they soak through and slowly fade away. Shim waits only five minutes before another sentence appears—one not written by him._

_**That is unfortunate but expected. Time for you to fulfill your end of our bargain, detective.** _


End file.
